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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25480615">Galatea</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/pseuds/Zai42'>Zai42</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Inanimate Object Porn, Other, he fucks a statue i don't know how to tag for this, statue fucking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:47:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,012</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25480615</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/pseuds/Zai42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tjelvar is certain his translation is correct: If you seek entry, worship here as Pygmalion worshiped his Galatea.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tjelvar Stornsnasson/Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Galatea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The inscription bid him to debase himself if he sought entry; to worship as Pygmalion had worshiped his Galatea. Tjelvar had checked and double checked his translation and was certain he was right, but still he hesitated, wandering the perimeter of the room once again in search of some alternative. None presented itself. This made sense; he had already searched five times before.</p>
<p> Irritated, Tjelvar let out a short huff of a breath, muttered “All right, <em>fine</em> then,” and began to strip with clipped, efficient movements. He grumbled under his breath about perverse old kings and climbed into the statue’s lap. Maybe he wouldn't need to actually - maybe he only had to -</p>
<p> Nothing happened. Tjelvar sighed and gazed up into the marble eyes of the statue. From this angle, his <em>- its -</em> expression was more clearly a salacious smirk. It was a handsome statue, for all its smugness; its lips were full, its body - ha - chiseled, its hands elegant where they rested near Tjelvar’s hips.</p>
<p> <em>All right. No getting out of this,</em> Tjelvar thought, and leaned forward against the statue's broad chest to open himself up. “This can’t be sanitary,” he mumbled. He rubbed two fingers over his hole, sighed, and brought his fingers to his mouth, slicking them with spit before pushing them into his body, letting out a sharp breath at the sudden stretch. “I’m keeping oil in my pack after this.”</p>
<p> He forced himself to slow down; as much as he wanted to do this quickly and be done with it, it would do him no good to hurt himself. Especially not like this - gods above, trying to explain away a <em>limp</em> when he returned to camp was the last thing he wanted. So he slowed his hand, easing the hard thrust of his fingers into something slow and easy, opening his eyes to stare down at the statue’s impressive phallus. He blinked, pulling back an inch to take a better look, then glanced up at the statue’s face to see if its smug expression had changed.</p>
<p> Its cock was...dripping. A bead of - of - <em>something</em> rolled down the alabaster shaft, catching the dim torchlight. Tjelvar swiped it up with his thumb, bringing it up to his eyes to inspect it. It was clear, odorless, slick when he rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re kidding,” he said flatly. He glared up at the statue’s unchanged face. “I suppose I should thank you,” he grumbled. His fingertips felt pleasantly warm where they’d touched the oil; without letting himself think too much about it, Tjelvar reached back and pressed into himself with his slicked hand. It was easier this time, smoother, his body opening more readily, and Tjelvar bit his lip.</p>
<p> Slowly, carefully, he sank down on the statue’s stone prick, hissing through his teeth. It was a hard, heavy invasion, his soft insides twitching and clenching around unyielding marble, his eyes fluttering shut, his jaw falling slack. He curled his hands around the statue’s wrists as his thighs began to shake; he shifted, rolling his hips, trying to find a position that would accommodate the rigid weight inside him.</p>
<p> He moaned as he finally settled fully in the statue’s lap, sweat rolling down his neck. He licked his lips and panted, open-mouthed, as he looked up at the statue’s face, waiting for something to happen. “N-not...not good enough?” Tjelvar asked, slightly breathless. He grit his teeth. “Fine then.”</p>
<p> He wrapped his arms around the statue’s neck, glaring into its smug features, and lifted himself halfway off its cock before dropping back down. Stars exploded behind his eyes, his breath leaving him in a gutpunch gasp, but he refused to slow down, grinding hard into the statue’s lap. “Come - on - open <em>up - !”</em></p>
<p> The prick inside him was relentless, solid and unforgiving, slamming hard into Tjelvar’s guts with each increasingly sloppy thrust. His fingers scrabbled at the smooth marble, clutching wildly at the carved muscles of its shoulders, clinging tight to give him better leverage to fuck himself. His insides felt hot and slick, his body throbbing as the stone cock ravished him.</p>
<p> Tjelvar moaned, eyes rolling back in his skull, forgetting himself for a moment as the hard intrusion rubbed up against him, a stab of hot pleasure knifing through him. “There,” he gasped, hips snapping as he chased the sensation again, legs going weak. “Ah - gods - there, <em>there - ”</em></p>
<p> Tjelvar fell forward, cheek pressed against the statue’s chest, warmed now from Tjelvar’s own feverish body heat. He panted, hips rolling, a low moan in his throat as he fucked himself, each frantic thrust rubbing against the sensitive spot inside him. His own cock was dripping into the statue’s lap, a steady stream of slick precome. Tjelvar was distantly certain he could run one fingertip along his prick and he’d be coming, but he didn’t <em>want</em> to. He sank down on the perfect marble cock, grinding into the statue’s lap, breath coming in frantic pants - just there, he was so close, <em>so close, soclosesocloseso...</em></p>
<p> His orgasm slammed into him and Tjelvar moaned, guttural and loud, echoing off the walls of the tomb. For a moment his mind went pleasantly fuzzy, not quite blank but quiet; he moved his hips in tiny circles, riding out his orgasm, snuggling up against the statue.</p>
<p> Then he opened his eyes and sat quickly upright, staring distrustfully at the statue. It looked somehow smugger than it had before, perfect plump lips grinning in the face of Tjelvar’s irritation. Tjelvar flushed, embarrassed with himself. “Good enough?”</p>
<p> As if on cue, the heavy stone door to the next chamber slid politely open. Tjelvar looked at it, then the statue, and eased himself out of its lap, keeping an eye on it as he tugged his clothes back on. He shrugged on his pack and pointed an accusatory finger at the statue, still smirking at him. “Don’t think I’m doing this again on my way out,” he said, stalking into the next room and absolutely refusing to accept he was hearing the faint echo of laughter behind him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry, Ben.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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